The Professor Who Doesn't Exploit Her Graduate Students
My neurons fired off sparks in a full-blown cognitive dissonance meltdown. What the actual fuck?
“Whaaaaaat?”
It felt like I’d been turned into an AI that had just been fed a completely contradictory command. Even if Dana had shown up one morning with a massive rack, I wouldn’t have been this shocked.
“Dana didn’t tell you? Ulster research doesn’t bring in money. I can barely feed the students working under me, so I basically operate like a solo field researcher.”
When I stared at her in disbelief, Hiromain awkwardly touched her cheek.
“I felt terrible that I couldn’t pay the students working with me on time. Once I split the research grant with them, there was nothing left for actual research.”
“What… did you just say…?”
She even carved up her own salary to share with them? It was culture shock after culture shock. The claim was so ridiculous I briefly wondered if she was lying.
But if she was lying, why the hell would she tell a lie like that? Looking at it rationally, her equipment and clothes really did look worn out. Plus, telling a lie that would only tank her reputation made zero sense.
A professor who doesn’t treat her students like lab slaves! What Hiromain was describing was the same as someone claiming they ran a small business but were the only employee and didn’t even have an office.
I finally understood why she’d looked embarrassed when people called her “Professor.”
Okay, hold on. It’s still too early to believe this 100%.
I tried to calm myself. The idea of a professor without graduate students was such a paradoxical creature that it had genuinely thrown me off balance. There was no way to verify whether she was telling the truth right now anyway. Best to stay on guard.
But what if it’s real, though? Fuck.
How the hell was I supposed to interact with a being that was both a professor and not a professor? It was the same kind of mental breakdown the protagonist of a mafia picaresque revenge story would have if he suddenly found himself pointing a gun at a genuinely decent yakuza.
I mean, come on. Is there even such a thing as a yakuza who doesn’t touch pachinko or Japanese porn? A criminal organization that doesn’t commit crimes is no different from the kindergarten principal’s fucking social club.
“Ah, I understand. Please get in the carriage. I’ve kept an injured person standing for too long.”
After my brief mental spiral, I ushered Hiromain toward the carriage. The unicorn foal glared at us warily before moving to the front.
─Thump.
Dana jabbed me in the side.
“Hey, husband. It’s good you’re acting tame for once, but since when do you hold back like that?”
“…Just watch for now. There might actually be good professors, bad professors, professors who can’t research, kind professors… all kinds of professors in this world.”
“What a load of bullshit,” Dana whispered into my ear—quiet enough that Hiromain wouldn’t hear. The way she cursed was weirdly satisfying to listen to. I kind of wanted to record it and play it before bed.
“Hahaha. Hahahaha! Just look at my carriage! Never mind the repair costs—I’m terrified the luggage inside is going to spill out while we’re moving!”
Victuar was laughing like a madman, his mind clearly shattered. The cause was obvious: his completely wrecked carriage. It was like watching a delivery driver stare at the crumpled side of his truck. No wonder he looked like he wanted to cry. He probably needed a drink badly.
At that moment, Hiromain rolled up her sleeves. Literally rolled them up.
“If that’s the problem, I can cast a wind-blocking spell for you. It should keep the wind out and protect the luggage for several hours.”
As she spoke, I caught sight of black tattoos running down her arm.
What the fuck? Had this auntie been a total delinquent before becoming a professor? Like some honor-student gang leader type? Holy shit, she was a scary big sister. I could practically smell the cigarette smoke on her.
“Hehe. These are Pict tattoos. It’s a form of sorcery where you carve magical formulas directly into your body. I inscribed the wind-blocking spell.”
─Slap slap!
As if she’d noticed what I was thinking, Hiromain patted her own forearm.
“Thanks to this, I don’t feel cold even when riding through winter. I spent three years in northern Britannia just to learn it. Getting the Pict tribes to acknowledge you is incredibly difficult!”
Despite undervaluing herself, Hiromain spoke proudly about Ulster culture. If you didn’t know better, you’d think she was from Ulster herself.
Pict tattoos, huh.
I vaguely remembered hearing that the Ulster people had a tattooing culture. It had been so long ago that I couldn’t even remember when I’d learned it.
Now that I think about it, Dana never chants spells when she uses magic either.
Since I’d seen her naked body in thorough detail, I knew she didn’t have any tattoos on her skin. Still, the memory made me whisper to her.
“…Hey. Is that kind of thing popular in your hometown?”
“You get them when you become an adult. I hated the idea, so I only learned the foundations of a few spells and left.”
“Holy shit.”
The more I dug into my wives’ pasts, the more endless secrets I uncovered. I was so stunned I actually felt drained.
I never imagined Ulster’s tattoo culture would pop up connected to my wife like this.
Shaking my head in amazement, I climbed into the carriage whose holes had been sealed by sorcery. Even though nothing was visibly blocking the gaping openings, no wind came through. The carriage pulled by the unicorn and Victuar’s horse moved forward comfortably.
I only learned this later, but apparently Veronica already knew roughly what Dana’s magic was about. Come to think of it, back when we first saw Dana’s magic in the City of the Dead, Veronica had muttered something about “Pict copy magic (Pingere).”
It was a day that made me realize there were still many cultures in this world that even I, an archaeologist, didn’t know about.
And the final realization came after we arrived at the village.
“Outsiders cannot enter our village!!”
What the hell is this bullshit now.
“You’re saying you won’t let us in?”
─Shiver.
Victuar trembled in the night air as he asked. In response, the spear-wielding villager—a woman, probably part of the village watch—glared at us fiercely.
“That’s right. I’m sorry you came such a long way, but for the time being, no one from outside can stay in our village. If you try to sneak in, we’ll beat you and drive you out.”
“N-no, ma’am. It’s me, Victuar. The salt peddler Victuar. Don’t you remember me?”
“I recognize your face, but no. It’s not just because of the people behind you. Even if you were alone, I couldn’t let you in.”
The watch auntie was firm. We had arrived at Flusmir Village looking forward to warming up, only to get completely shut down at the gate.
Were we really going to have to sleep rough on a cold winter night with the village wall right in front of us? What kind of dogshit situation was this?
“It doesn’t look like she’ll budge,” Victuar said gloomily as he returned.
Apparently he was the only one among us who had visited this village before, but even though some people recognized his face, they still wouldn’t allow entry.
I observed the village where torches still burned even at this late hour.
The wariness is intense. Something must have happened.
And it didn’t seem like the kind of problem that would be solved by suspecting outsiders. The watch members who had driven us away had looked genuinely apologetic. They might even share some blankets and warm water with us.
Of course, if we loitered around here too long, that apologetic look would turn into suspicion in the blink of an eye.
For a rural village, the security is ironclad, but it doesn’t seem chaotic inside.
It didn’t look like the typical shady, closed-off rural community hiding a crime. I turned my gaze away from the village.
“Nothing we can do about it. There’s a forest nearby, so let’s go there and at least get out of the wind. We can cover the holes in the carriage with blankets.”
“Ugh. Guess we have to.”
Victuar rubbed his arms as he answered. We were disappointed we couldn’t stay the night, but our actual destination had been the forest anyway. Victuar was just passing through here on his way to Romania tomorrow.
The problem is Hiromain, though.
I climbed back into the carriage. The middle-aged female professor seemed exhausted from healing her wounds and was yawning.
“Professor? It looks like we’ll have to cross the forest to go further east. Is the Ulster settlement beyond the forest?”
“Haaam… Oh, yes. If you cross Flusmir Forest, you’ll reach some plains. It’s near there.”
Then it seemed we would part ways with Hiromain tomorrow.
I guess I’ll have to ask her to cast some kind of vigilance spell or something so I can hear the story.
I roughly explained the situation to the waiting party. Everyone looked disappointed that we couldn’t enter the village, but no one complained.
I closed the carriage entrance that served as our tent and moved to the driver’s seat. I needed to keep an eye on the horn-broken unicorn foal so it wouldn’t do anything stupid.
“Yah!”
When Victuar cracked the whip without much force, the carriage headed toward where the forest was supposed to be. The lantern attached to the carriage only illuminated about two to three meters ahead, like a dim lantern light. Traveling by carriage at night was unusual, so it felt like a fresh experience.
Victuar, wrapped up like a teddy bear in blankets, muttered.
“Seriously, what could have happened?”
“Who knows. Probably some violent incident that occurred outside the village. Just my gut feeling, but I’d say there’s an eight or nine out of ten chance that someone died.”
“A m-murder case, you mean?”
“Yes.”
I spoke while watching the shadows of the horses sway every time the carriage wheels jolted.
“The inside of the village wasn’t noisy, but they were extremely wary of us outsiders. That means enough time has passed since the incident for people to calm down.”
Of course, that was assuming they were the victims.
Victuar stammered as he spoke.
“It doesn’t necessarily have to be murder, right?”
“Judging by the level of vigilance, it’s at least assault or theft. But theft is unlikely. Theft cases are more easily suspected to be committed by insiders than outsiders. Above all, there’s no reason to drive away outsiders who just arrived today.”
Who in the village owned what and how much—locals would know that information far better. They wouldn’t suddenly put newcomers like us on the suspect list.
“When you narrow it down to assault or murder, their reaction is a little strange. Even if someone died, inns still take guests. This level of vigilance only appears when the culprit hasn’t been caught and every single villager has a solid alibi.”
“So they’re convinced the one who caused the incident is an outsider?”
A voice came from inside the carriage. It was Franc.
“Yeah. Either incidents kept happening even when everyone gathered in a place like a church, or the victim’s condition is far from ordinary. In the latter case, it would be a murder method impossible with the power of ordinary villagers.”
Like tearing a person in half with superhuman strength, or hanging them from the top of a tree overnight. Something like that. I didn’t know for sure, but it was probably horrific enough that the villagers thought, ‘No one from our village could possibly have done this.’
“Mister Nord, you’re so smart! I’m genuinely impressed!”
Hiromain clapped as if in admiration.
I rested my chin on my hand without getting excited.
“No, thank you for the compliment, but I’m actually worried.”
“Huh?”
“The fact that they’re suspecting people means it doesn’t look like a monster’s doing… which means the victim’s wounds had blade marks or signs of human hands, or there were no traces of a beast.”
People living in the remote corners of this other world were extremely knowledgeable about the monsters near their villages. It was the same reason why people at my family’s countryside home could tell exactly what kind of bastard animal had ruined the fields just by looking at the footprints.
Besides, for these people it was a matter of life and death. If it was the work of a monster that frequently caused harm around the village, it was only natural they would recognize it.
And if it had been a monster, they would have asked us to subjugate it instead.
No, wait. Even if it was an unfamiliar monster, if it looked like a monster’s doing, they wouldn’t just let someone dressed like an adventurer like me leave.
“It looks like something a human did, but with superhuman strength impossible for an ordinary person. The alibis of the villagers, who are suspected to be outsiders. In this situation, who would the villagers be suspecting?”
There was a perfect candidate right nearby.
I stared at the approaching forest with a sense of foreboding.
“…No way?”
Hiromain had just muttered that when—
─Shweeeeeeek!
At the sound of something slicing through the wind, I dropped my relaxed posture and hooked my fingers on my bracelet. But I didn’t draw it.
The arrow had landed far ahead of our carriage.
“Huk!!”
Victuar urgently stopped the carriage. I stood up from the driver’s seat and looked toward the forest.
Red-haired warriors covered in tattoos were aiming bows at us.